


Road Trip

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Sam and Gene have to transport a suspect into London. How the cat's will play while they're away...good job the mice don't know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Smut, basically, pretty much just smut... ;)

Ok, so it wouldn't have been Sam's first choice for a vacation destination but it'll do. It's a break from the norm, which is enough to have him humming along with the car radio, much to the Guv's annoyance.

Peace and quiet. No squad, no midnight call outs or door busting incidents and definitely no Ray sending him scathing looks from across the room. Bliss.

They've been called down to London, of all places. One of the scummier sections, especially by 70's standards. They've currently got a nark cuffed and gagged in the back seat, and Sam's quite looking forward to this prisoner transfer. Not least 'cos he gets to spend a bit of time alone with Gene.

Not that Gene knows Sam's extra curricular imaginings'd influenced his quick acquiescence to the request to 'ride along'. As far as the Guv's concerned, Sam just didn't want to do his mounting pile of paperwork and this was as good an excuse as any to put it off for a few days.

That should've tipped him off straight away. Sam Tyler lives for paperwork.

They're about half way to their intended destination and Sam can't help the grin tugging at his lips. The more he smiles, the more cheesed off the Guv gets, the more cheesed off the Guv gets, the more he smiles. Swings and round abouts.

Apparently this particular prisoner'd been involved in a string of cross country robberies. All they'd been aware of when they'd nicked him was he'd done over a jewelers in Baxter Street and they'd caught him red handed, fingers in the till, gun pointed at the assistant's head.

Sam can still hear Gene's voice, raised well above natural decibel level, when he'd gotten the call informing him that the suspect was actually wanted in about a dozen cases and would he mind awfully bringing him down to London? The fact that Gene's office windows are still in one piece is more a testament to 70's structural integrity than any building regulation ever could be.

Bowie's 'Life on Mars' comes onto the radio and Sam finds himself grinning from ear to ear. Isn't that strange, six months, even three months ago, that song would've had him in tears, possibly pulling his already too short hair out with tweezers. Now it just makes him smile like an idiot.

When did this place become somewhere he enjoys being? At what point did nostalgic ramblings turn into fully fledged contentment? How did the man sat next to him, drumming his leather clad fingers against the steering wheel, end up being part of the reason Sam's glad he hasn't woken up yet?

It's confusing, to say the least. Sam, master of the obvious...confusing? More like bloody impossible but it's not something he wants to examine in any great detail. Not when Gene's just started humming along to a David Bowie track and looks so adorable...adorable? Bloody hell.

They're nearly in London. Sam can see familiar buildings, familiar even three decades before they should be. He takes a moment to really look at his surroundings and realises he's close to where his Nan lived. Lives? Would she still be...yea, he thinks she'd be about 45 and still living in her little run down flat by the docks.

Something tugs at his navel and he contemplates, just for a moment, going and looking her up, but that way only leads to badness. He's learnt his lesson, after his mum, his dad, no more. No more family members that he could quite possibly destroy by simply coming into contact with them.

He shakes himself, lets the steady tinktink of piano keys lull him back into his good mood and watches as Gene loses himself in the bars of a song he himself has said he doesn't like yet can't stop himself swaying to.

It's certainly better than sitting in a smoky squad room, listening to Ray moan and complain about his 'Hyde' ways, seeing Chris drip bacon bits or egg yolk onto whatever case file he's looking at. It beats the hell out of 'everyday' even if it is just a quick jaunt down to a seedy little section of London.

They'll have to stay for at least two days. Or so Gene'd informed him after he'd accepted the rather gruff invitation.

Sam finds himself contemplating the Guv's reasons behind asking him to come along. By rights, it should've been Ray sitting in the passenger seat, watching Gene bop along to a pop song, but he's here and it's better than being there so he tells himself to shut up and just enjoys the spectacle.

"What exactly 'as got you so damned amused, Gladys?"

"Nothing Guv"

"Stop smilin' like a special case then an' take a look at the map"

Sam de rumples the map in his lap and plots their whereabouts with his little finger. Finding the road they're on, he trails the digit up and finds the marker for the police station they're supposed to be visiting.

"Hook a left at the next intersection"

Gene grunts and scans the road for a sign confirming Sam's directions, he swings the wheel and pulls out into busy traffic. Sam shakes his head and narrows his eyes at Gene "If you don't trust my navigational skills, why give me the bloody map?"

"'Cos I can't drive an' read the soddin' thing, can I? I was just checkin' you weren't sendin' us to Inverness or somethin'"

"Were pointing the wrong way for that"

"Ha bloody ha"

Sam hears a muffled chuckle coming from the back of the car and swings his shoulders, hooks an arm over the back of the seat and eyes the other passenger. He'd almost forgotten about him.

"I wouldn't be so smug if I was you Jenkins, you're about to have your arse handed to you by a bunch of burly Londoners"

Jenkins visibly shudders and pipes down. Sam smirks nastily and turns back to the road, just in time to see Gene miss the turning for the police station "I said left"

"Can't be expected to drive an' read at the same time, s'bloody unnatural"

"God you're so bloody infuriating. Pull a u-turn and go back, it'll be the next right now"

"Hush up Dorothy, s'not like we'll be late. They need us to drop the scum off before they can start. Stop fussin'"

Sam blows out an exasperated breath and bites his tongue, refusing to give the Guv any more reason to niggle him by saying something daft about tardiness.

Gene yanks the car 180 degrees and narrowly misses plowing them into a Chevy coming in the opposite direction. Sam grips the hand rest and closes his eyes, hears a squeak then a thud from the back seat and turns to see Jenkins on his side, head resting on the door handle. 

Turning back to Gene he raises his eyebrows, regardless of the fact that he's not being paid any attention to and gently scolds the other man "I'm fairly certain they wanted him in one peace, Guv"

"Should've come an' got the bugger 'emselves then shouldn't they!"

"Breaking the suspect isn't gonna get you outta staying here, so stop driving like a pillock"

Gene hurumphs and steadies the car, keeps an eye out for the turning and pulls into the car park of the copshop.

They're greeted by two uniforms and ushered into the station "DCI Hunt, DI Tyler, pleased to meet you, I'm PC Lazenger. This is PC Strictland.. let's get you up to the Guv"

Gene stares at the young officer and Sam chuckles. Gene isn't used to hearing others referred to as Guv and it obviously doesn't sit well.

They wander up endless corridors until they reach a single door with a name plaque attached to the glass. One of the plods knocks and they hear DCI Jameson call them in.

"Guv, this is DCI Hunt and DI Tyler, they've brought us Jenkins"

"Good good, thank you Lazenger. You can go now"

"Yes sir"

Both of them turn and leave, closing the door behind them. Jenkins is fidgeting and shuffling his feet and DCI Jameson raises a 'brow and nods to the gag still firmly shoved in his mouth.

Sam'd forgotten they'd done that, bugger, ahh well, Gene's the senior officer, he can explain his violent tendencies.

"Little shit wouldn't stop yappin', had to shut him up somehow"

"Interesting methods you boys up in Manchester employ. Perhaps we should try that on a few of our undesirables. The cells would certainly be quieter"

Gene smirks and nods then slips his hands into the waist band of his trousers and Sam feels his pulse pick up. Gene's classic sheriff pose always manages to set his heart thumping. Damn his total lack of self control. 

He's so busy trying to calm himself down he doesn't hear the other DCI giving Gene directions to their B&B, nor does he see the look that passes between the two men. 

Finally his surroundings dripdripdrip their way back into his brain and he looks up to see Gene smirking at him "Nice place was it?"

"Huh?"

"Wherever it was you just disappeared off to. I swear Gladys, you don't half pull some interestin' faces when yer off and away with the fairies"

He emphasises the word 'fairies' and Sam finds himself unable to stop the blush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks.

DCI Jameson looks on, intrigued at the exchange but says nothing. Gene turns back to him and takes the piece of paper he's waving about then spins and heads for the door "So, call you in a day and see how you've been gettin' on with our boy 'ere shall we?"

"Yes Mr Hunt, good idea. See you soon and don't worry, we'll be gentle with him"

"No need on my account"

Jameson chuckles and Jenkins hangs his head. Sam almost feels sorry for the poor bloke. 

*

*

*

They've been put up in a not too grotty bedsit with two double beds and a fridge. Compared to Sam's shitty little flat, it's a palace.

Gene's toed off his shoes and is just contemplating removing his jacket when the need for a cold beer overtakes him and he slips his shoes back on "Fancy a pint?"

"Where, we don't know where we are?"

"Can't be that 'ard to find a boozer, even with your disastrous directional skills"

Sam grits his teeth, ignores the jibe and grabs the car keys off the side and pockets them.

"Hey, hey, mitts off the keys"

"You aren't going out drinking in a strange city and then driving home. We'll find something close enough on foot"

"Spoil sport"

"As always"

"You ever get tired of being right all the time?"

"I dunno, you ever get tired of being wrong all the time?"

"I should pin you down an' spank your arse, ya know that Tyler?"

Something shimmies its way up Sam's spine and he finds himself imagining just that. Gene with his large, work hardened hands all over his backside. It's a picture that sends his brain into melt down and he has to hunch over to hide the rather prominent erection now straining against his fly.

Gene takes in Sam's flushed face and dilated pupils and smiles smugly to himself. Hit a button there didn't we? The man could be so transparent sometimes. Good job he's an understanding boss or he'd have had him thrown off his team the minute he spotted Sam keep eyeing him up everytime he went for a slash.

As it is, it intrigues Gene. He finds himself wondering exactly how far he can push Sam before Sam cottons on that Gene's knows which way his bread's buttered.

He's never been averse to a bit of 'hows your father' with anyone. It's not an actual requirement that the person have tits. He's obviously better at hiding his persuasions than Sam is because none of his squad have ever joked or made any sly comments about _his_ sexual leanings. Then again, they're probably too scared to risk it. They know he'd wipe the floor with any one of them that dared.

This little excursion'd presented the perfect opportunity to get Sam away from the baying hounds back at the station. He's often wondered what Tyler'd do if he offered up some word of proposition. He thinks Sam's little obsession is made up of equal parts frustration and wanting what he can't have. If Gene sat him down and said 'fancy a shag?', he's not sure whether Sam'd stand his ground or leg it like a frightened school boy.

He gives Sam another minute to gather himself then shoves him in the shoulder and says "So, you want a drink or what?"

Sam shakes his head, shoves his hands in his pockets and wills his cock give it up before nodding his head.

"Right, come on then, lets see what this place 'as got to offer"

*

*

*

Well, London boozers aren't too different to those in Manchester, except in Manchester, you'd never catch anyone wearing some of the truly hideous items of clothing currently draped off the patrons in the 'Dog and Duck'. You'd also never see two blokes covered from head to foot in tattoos, snogging enthusiastically in the middle of a pub.

Sam's spent half the evening with his eyebrows in his hairline and Gene's been watching with unrestrained glee as he's become more and more distracted.

Who knew, Sammy boy is a voyeur. Shouldn't really be a surprise, he's twisted enough as it is, this just confirms Gene's suspicions that yes, he is into that kind of lifestyle.

Well, gives him grounds for a little experiment anyway "Oi, you ever wonder whether Ray and Chris are..."

"Ewww, Guv, gross"

"So you don't like.."

"It's not that, got nothing against gay people Gene, s'just the thought of Ray and anyone. Makes my insides turn upside down"

Gene chuckles and nods his head, come to think of it, that imagery does kind of set his teeth on edge.

"You ever?"

Sam ducks his head, studies his drink and refuses to look the Guv in the eyes. He's not answering that, not when he's having serious issues with self restraint. Perhaps this little trip wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Come on Sammy boy, fess up, you ever danced with the greasy pole?"

"My God Gene, you've certainly got a way with words"

Sam's horrified expression is making it very hard to keep a straight face but Gene continues to stare, waiting for an answer. When Sam offers none, he leans forward and whispers in his ear, voice husky, whiskey scented breath blowing against Sam's neck "Let me put it this way then...Have you ever wrapped those luscious lips round some lucky bastards cock?"

Sam's heart literally stops. Gene's voice is deep and full of meaning but sam's fevered brain is having trouble comprehending that meaning so he just nods once and swallows.

Gene leans back, gives Sam his space and takes a swig of his drink. Sam's sat, hunched over his pint, shoulders shaking and fingers tensed round the glass. Gene can't help the self satisfied feeling but doesn't want to count his chickens, just in case they start pecking him to death.

He waits for Sam's breathing to return to normal then slides a hand from the bar, down Sam's side, across his stomach and along the inside of his thigh. Grazing his fingers briefly over Sam's crotch, he continues down until he reaches his bony knee and gives it a squeeze then removes his hand. Or at least, he tries to but Sam's moved with lightning speed and has clamped his own hand down on Gene's, making it impossible for him to retract the meandering limb.

"Gene?" Sam's voice is gravelly, full of pent up frustration and longing and Gene enjoys the jolt it sends straight to his cock.

Gene leans in close again, lets his lips brush against Sam's ear lobe "Yes, Inspector Tyler?"

"You, are you..is this...If you're taking the piss out of me Guv, I quit"

Gene laughs quietly and lets his tongue peek out of his mouth, runs the tip along Sam's ear and says "Right now, the only thing I'm interested in takin' from you, is your clothes"

Gene's never seen Sam move so fast. He's up and off his stool and dragging Gene towards the door before he's managed to finish the last dregs of his pint.

*

*

*

Gene feels his head hit the wall of the bedsit and finds it hard to remember his own name, let alone where he is and why he's currently got his DI's tongue stuffed in his mouth, his hands shoved down the front of his trousers.

The friction Sam's fumbling is causing, is pure torture. Not enough pressure to do any real good but enough to send him completely bloody insane. He tries to get his hands on Sam's arms, force him to touch him properly but sam pulls back, refuses to give Gene what he needs.

Instead he slips his hands from Gene's trousers and slams them down on his shoulders. Spinning him, so Gene's face is pressed against the wall, Sam runs his hands from his shoulders to his arse and back. Pulling his shirt from his trousers on the way, he lets his hands slip beneath the material and rakes his nails over Gene's heated flesh, wrenching a wanton moan from Gene's lips.

"Sam!"

"What Guv?"

"Nrghh"

"You started this, now take it like a man and shut up"

Any other time Gene would've laid Sam out for that remark but the tone in his voice leaves Gene panting and unwilling to argue. 

Sam continues his assault on Gene's back, ripping his nails across his skin, leaving marks, until Gene can take it no more and he moans low and menacingly. He feels rather than hears Sam's laugh and then there's nothing. No hands, no warm body pressing him into cold wallpaper, just dead air.

Gene's about to turn round when he hears Sam's voice from across the room "Stay.There"

It makes Gene's stomach roll over and his cock jump. Sam's forceful tone leaves no room for discussion and he finds himself doing as he's told.

Two minutes pass and Gene can hear Sam clattering and banging about in cupboards and draws, then he's back and fumbling with the fastenings on Gene's clothes. Buttons come pinging off in all directions and his zipper is violently yanked down, exposing his cock and arse to the cold air.

Sam peels Gene's trousers down, slowly, so slowly, until they reach his ankles and he's completely naked from the waist down. He feels Sam's hands on his shoulders, pulling him backwards and pushing him to the floor.

Gene lets himself be shoved to the carpet, perches himself on his hands and knees and waits. 

He doesn't have to wait long, seconds after he's in position, Sam's fingers are at his opening. They're cold and sticky and Gene realises exactly what Sam'd been searching for. He's covered his hands in cooking oil and is spreading it over Gene.

Gene's back arches as Sam's finger probe him. Using just enough force to make Gene's hands flatten against the carpet, Sam pushes forward, sheaths two digits in Gene's grasping warmth and starts to fuck him, watches as the muscles in his back and shoulders bunch and twist.

Gene's fighting really hard against the urge to turn and grab Sam but he's not gonna stop him. He's wanted this for a while and if Sam wants to take the lead, fine, he can always rag him into the hood of the Cortina at a later date.

Sam can't quite believe he's got two fingers buried inside Gene, mainly because he'd always imagined this and he'd always been the one on his knees, begging and whimpering. It's a heady sensation, having this much power over such a formidable character as Gene Hunt.

Gene takes a moment to enjoy the feeling of being violated then starts to slide himself forward, counters Sam's thrusting fingers with his own thrusting hips and they mark out a rhythm that has Gene's eyes crossing and belly tightening.

It's not long before Sam's fingers aren't enough. He wants more. More weight, more pressure, more everything and he begins to beg. Shit, he doesn't beg. It's a foreign concept, something other people do but damn him if he isn't begging like a little slut, whimpering and quivering in Sam's hands.

Sam finally takes the hint and slips his fingers from Gene, positions himself with the head of his cock at his opening and slams himself forward. Both Gene and Sam cry out at the sensation. Gene can feel Sam stretching him and Sam can feel Gene squeezing him. It makes them both pant and grab hold of whatever they can.

Sam's got his nails embedded in Gene's hips and Gene's got his fingers curled in amongst the carpet fibres.

Sam begins to move, slipping from Gene, far enough so that just the tip of his cock is inside, then forcefully slamming himself forward until he feels his balls slap against Gene's thighs. Gene's grunting and groaning under Sam's weight but is pushing back with enthusiasm. It's a strange sensation, having another man's cock inside his body. It's not as he'd expected.

He'd figured on pain and awkwardness. He always been the one to want, take, have but with Sam, something seemed to slip into place that meant he trusted his DI just enough to put himself in this position.

He can hear Sam grunting and groaning above him, losing himself in the motion and sensation while he concentrates on not coming undone at the seams. It's becoming increasingly more difficult to keep it together with Sam pumping away behind him, shunting him across the carpet, lacing the pleasure with just enough pain that he's soon bucking his hips and cursing loudly.

"Fuck, Sammy, fuckin' 'ell"

"That's it, come on Guv, I wanna hear you scream"

"Sam!"

"What, come on, tell me, what?"

"Tou..touch me"

Sam snakes one hand beneath Gene's writhing body, takes his cock into his still slick palm and begins to clench his fist, slide his hand from root to tip until Gene's once again begging, begging for something he didn't know he needed.

"Please, shit Sam please, I..need to, have to.."

Sam lays himself against Gene's back, lets his lips brush, feather light, against Gene's ear "Cum for me" and Gene's lost, completely lost. Time stands absolutely still as his cock pulses in Sam's hand, as he empties himself onto the already stained carpet.

Gene's body convulses and it sends Sam tripping straight over the edge into nothingness. He sees white lights, blotting out everything but the feeling of Gene taking him and turning him inside out.

Finally, Gene's arms give out and he collapses onto the floor, taking Sam with him. They lay like that, Sam pinning him to the carpet, until he becomes too heavy and Gene has to move. 

Gene twists, rolls himself over, bringing Sam up and into his arms until he's resting against his chest. Head pillowed in the crook of Gene's arm, Sam looks up into emerald eyes and smiles. Gene smirks and nudges Sam "Don't be fallin' asleep, my arse is goin' numb"

Sam laughs, it's full and throaty and makes Gene want to laugh in reply, so they lay there, sweaty and sated, laughing their arses off at a joke no one else will understand.

*

*

*

When they pick up Jenkins, he's looking a little worse for wear and limping "Have a good weekend?"

"Piss off"

"Now, now, is that anyway to talk to your designated driver?"

"Go spit"

"Don't think he's happy to see us Guv"

"Ya think?"

Sam chuckles and gets into the car, watches Gene sit himself down gingerly and can't help the smirk.

Gene slips sideways, lets his hand brush over Sam's thigh and whispers "Dunno what you're so amused about. Your time'll come"

Sam's eyes go wide and Gene smiles. Good, wouldn't want him getting too comfy.

Sam's reply has Gene staring open mouthed "Is that a threat or a bribe?"

 

Fin

 


End file.
